Good Things About Today:
1. Down time with no plans.
2. It's warmer.
3. I've made it 5 days with no sweets in sight. Holler. 35 Days remain.
Fleshy.
I hate this word, but I feel like it describes perfectly a few parts of my anatomy.
Here are a few examples, so the rest of you can compare.
1. When the jeans ride too low leaving a muffin top or, even better 'the bulge'. It might not be a complete muffin top, because the waist isn't that tight, but the fleshy bugle emerges and I find myself often poking it. You don't need to say it, I already know it's pathetic.
2. Area right above the bra near the under arm.
3. Pooch. (Need I say more?)
4. Any area of the back while twisting.
Why did I bring this up? Because today, I felt fleshy and I HATED it--there was a little more sag than normal, a little more roll over than expected, and BANG I'm off. Driving the "I've got a terrible self image" train from station to station. The funny thing is, it only took ONE glance in the mirror to set me off. I'm sure I looked perfectly adorable at church this morning, but I continued tugging at my jacket the entire service---what if the back of it decided to creep up and people saw the fleshy roll? What then?
Here's the thing. In hindsight (ahh, the lovely hindsight--seriously, what a pain in the ass) I wasn't looking at anyone else--is it possible no one was looking at me? When did I become so paranoid about these things; is it beaten into women when they are young? Do we inhale the poor self image concept like candy on Halloween beginning at birth, or does the revolution take place later? I don't consciously remember feeling overly concerned about my appearance until at least fourth grade. (Making exceptions for class pictures, of course.) And I know it was much, much worse in middle school. Middle school girls can often be inhumane--but where do we learn this behavior? Could it be natural selection--survival of the fittest (or the meanest?)
Anyone got an opinion? POST it.
As an added nugget of truth (and in the spirit of honesty) I want you all to know I'm no closer to my goal of losing 10 pounds. Haven't lost an ounce, in fact I think I'm up a pound or two--at least one, probably two. I need to work harder here, but shoot I gave up the candy. :)
Enjoy the remainder of your Sunday!
Becky
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YES, it is ingrained in us as women. No matter the woman. No matter the stage of life. No matter the weight. It's a continual battlefield in our minds. May you have a battle-less day! :)
ReplyDeleteI have no idea of source/origin but I think it is safe to say that all women beat themselves up this way. I, too, poke at my fleshy and I wish I could stop. I have no idea why I drive myself mad. Maybe it would help if there wasn't an underweight/photo air brushed model staring back at us everywhere we look...
ReplyDeleteI have a 16 year old step daughter in the house. I try very hard to be mindful of that. I have the ability to think I'm a cow one day, but then forgive myself the next and move on. BUT, If at 130 lbs, I walk around verbalizing my body image issues in front of her, then I am seriously setting her up. She is only 16 and doesn't realize yet what you mention above. Which is basically everyone has their own lives and could care less if our dark blue socks don't match our black trousers because the damn socks looked black this morning when we put them on, or if we have a giant pimple in the middle of our forehead. And .....I absolutely HATE that stupid armpit fat. Why is it there? How do you get rid of it? GRRR!
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